


With a name like mine

by Strawberrybats



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Doomed Timeline(s) (Fire Emblem: Awakening), F/F, Fire Emblem: Awakening Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Body Horror, The kids know who murdered chrom AU, also most of the kids make an appearance but i didnt want to tag kids without a lot of lines u feel, fell blood causes body horror au because im gay and i think it looks really really cool, minor Robin/Cordelia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-23 23:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16168886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberrybats/pseuds/Strawberrybats
Summary: “Trying to figure out if I’m going to stab you in the back too?” She asks, and even though her voice sounds hurt, she’s practically sneering at Lucina, eyes crinkled up in distaste, lip curled, flashing teeth like a hunting dog might. “Don’t bother.”-------When the daughter of her father's killer shows up, Lucina expects a fight - not an offer to help slay the fell dragon.And when Severa meets the Exalt of Ylisse, she expects to be hated and distrusted, not - whatever this is. Whatever they are.In their wasteland of a future, both set out to save it. Time isn't on their side, however, and Severa's connections to Grima hound them at every step.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cowboy_Sneep_Dip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip/gifts).



> If you're reading this i highly rec Wildflowers, which is the rly sexy lil lucisev fic by cowboy_sneep_dip that spurred me to write this ! ! The concept is pretty much shamelessly ripped from that, but i promise it's not a 1:1 copy of the other b̶e̶t̶t̶e̶r̶ fic lmao.... fellblood sev is just an all around fun concept and doomed timeline au is just *chef's kiss* so i got inspired to give it a whirl too! 
> 
> Normally I'm very conscientious of canonverse and nitpicky about timelines when I write, but for the sake of making this fic less confusing i made everyone around the same age as each other (i know laurent is supposed to be way younger but i dont know a Single Shit about him oops sldkfjklgj)
> 
> this all being said, thank u so much fr reading!

When the remnants of the Ylissian heroes trudge through the ruinous fields south of Fort Deil, intent on making it to Ferox proper to see if the Risen are affected any by the cold, they encounter a strange figure - a white-haired mercenary, waiting in the road with some degree of impatience. Broken lances and ash-grey risen lay not far off the side of the road, their recent killer presumably the person they see before them now.

As the caravan approaches, the mercenary does too, bringing with her the dawning realization that she is scarcely older than the rest of them, wispy white hair and too-long bangs obscuring her youthful face. Then they get close enough to make eye contact, and the reality of their situation slaps them across the face.

Red eyes, sharp as needles and darkened with irritation. Lucina sets out to face the Plegian stranger with the knowledge of Grima’s heirs fresh in her mind.

The other girl talks first. “Hey! You!” She seems to be walking towards her, so Lucina pulls her blade and holds it at the ready, hands tense around the grip. It’s still so heavy in her arms....

For her part, the stranger stops with a scoff. “Tch....figures. You’re Chrom’s daughter, right?”

“I am Lucina of House Ylisse,” she replies honestly, trying to present herself with the proper poise, the proper honor - “Chrom is -” her breath catches on the usage of present tense, a bitter habit she cannot break. “My father. What business do you have with me?”

The girl seems agitated, but it doesn’t appear directed at Lucina, stunningly. She crosses her arms. “I heard you’re going to kill Grima. I want in.”

“What?” Lucina asks disbelievingly, nose scrunched up in a show of surprise that borders on pathetic. She narrows her eyes. “Do you take us for fools? It’s very clear to me that you are -”

“His daughter.” She interrupts, running a hand through her hair, which seems stark white even in the backdrop of snow, an unnatural beacon. “I know. My name is Severa, and I want to kill the man who sired me. I heard that’s what you’re after, and I’m coming to get in on it.”

Unease dances in the pit of her stomach. Having recently lost a father herself to the man this girl claims relation to--and it’s not a popular claim to make, mind--puts her ill at ease. Part of her screams for vengeance on anything she can reach that might harm Grima, even if it means getting it through someone else, even if this girl has no personal fault - part of her wants to kill her.

Another part of her aches at the nonchalaunt way the girl refers to the vessel, who had once been her father, as a sire and nothing more, the way she twists her face in spite as she speaks of him.

Two conflicting halves of Lucina, one feeling spite and the other pity, prevent her from finding words easily. But she must be wise, and above all, fair. She tentatively continues their conversation with a lowered sword, but makes no indication Severa should move closer.

“What’s your goal in all this? I cannot believe you would assist our cause without an ulterior motive. Why should we trust you?”

Severa tosses her hair, giving Lucina a sharp-toothed smirk. “Wasn’t I speaking plain Ylissian? I want to kill Grima. As for trust....do whatever you want.” For the first time in the conversation a bit of that confident edge wears off; her smile drops a fraction and her challenging tone changes to a grumble. “Assign a guard to my tent. Make me sleep outdoors. Whatever. I couldn’t care less.”

She looks away from Lucina, like maintaining eye contact is beneath her. Or maybe because she doesn’t want Lucina to see something...? “But I want to come along, and I’ll follow whatever orders you give me, even if I think they’re stupid. Right now, a big group like yours is the only one with any shot at getting to Grima, so that’s what I need to go along with.”

“...You are not making a terribly good case for yourself being trustworthy.” Lucina notes aloud, somewhat dryly. “But you raise a good point. We’ll have to keep watch for treachery, but I can’t afford to outright refuse an able body.”

“Oh, I’m _very_ able,” Severa assures her, patting the sheath at her side. She’s wearing the clothes of a mercenary, though Lucina doubts she gets much work when anyone can see plain as day she’s a relative of the monster that caused this mess. Doubts _anyone_ gets much work when half the country is dead or in hiding. “And I’m sure the rest of you are, too. How else would you have made it this far north?”

Lucina sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose as she makes the decision that she will undoubtedly struggle with still tonight. “You may approach. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the Shepherds, and you’ll be situated tonight.”

The self-satisfied look on Severa’s face doesn't do wonders for Lucina’s confidence, but for now, she’ll have to bear it.

* * *

Surprisingly, Severa isn’t a stranger to _everyone_ in the camp. When Lucina arrives with her in tow, Cynthia dashes to her side, looking excited. “Sevvy! I’m so glad you’re okay~!” If she was okay, she wasn’t for long, since Cynthia all but tackled the girl in a hug.

Severa, for her part, looks less than pleased. “G-get off me, you loser.... _gawds_ , don’t you know you’re embarrassing me?”

“You two know each other?”

Chiming in the affirmative, Cynthia releases her hold on Severa just enough to still be facing her. She continues to hang onto her arm, though, swinging it up and down cheerfully. “Yup! We used to play together all the time, since our mothers were both pegasus knights! Severa was a bit of a homebody, though, so usually I had to go to her place.”

“I was _not_ ,” Severa grumbles in her defense. “Just because princess Ylisse over here doesn’t remember me doesn’t mean I never left my house...”

“Wait a moment - we’ve met?” Unable to withhold her surprise, Lucina steps forward, trying to get a better, closer look at Severa.

The other girl rolls her eyes. “Hardly. It was just once or twice, okay? I barely remember either, so why should it matter if you don’t at all?”  

Folding her arms, Lucina returns Severa’s stare. “It matters because it affects my impression of you. Of course I want to know as much as I can about you if I'm inviting you into our flock.” She says curtly, and her expression drops to a frown. “Are you certain you can't jog my memory, or will you insist on being stubborn?”

Groaning as if she’d just been given a chore, Severa parts from Cynthia, breaking her arm away and glowering in Lucina’s direction. “I had red hair then. I’m Cordelia’s daughter, so I was at a lot of the pegasus knights’ ceremonies - and I guess she played the harp at some of your birthday parties.”

Blinking, Lucina thinks back, and after some searching does recall a redhead that looks somewhat like Severa. She doesn't recall the attitude problem, though.

Nodding slowly to indicate that she understands, Lucina asks her to continue. “I...do remember, but only distantly. I’ve more memory of Cordelia being at the celebrations than you, though.”

“Go figure,” Severa grumbles, looking more irate than she has this entire conversation. “I’ve heard my mother had that effect on people.”

Lucina opts to simply continue. “Were you not at some of them?”

“I wasn't at most of them because I didn't like my mother going to the castle, and I was babysitting half the time.”

At the mention of babysitting, Cynthia lights up. “Oh! How's Morgan doing? She’s not here, but is she - ”

 _“Don’t_.” Severa says tersely. With that, any cooperative mood Severa might have been in evaporates. “I’m going to get firewood. Don't talk to me unless we’re fighting or sleeping.” She storms off into the woods, leaving the other two in her dust.

When she appears to be out of earshot, Lucina inches closer to a despondent looking Cynthia - a rare sight. “Morgan?” She asks, quietly. She has a hunch, but...

Cynthia confirms it, looking tearfully off after Severa. “Sevvy’s little sister...” She murmurs, rubbing at her eyes. “Oh, I can’t take everything being so awful all the time...!”   
  
"Even his own children weren't spared..." 

Like the heroes she idolizes, Cynthia is never one for idleness. “I don't know how to make her feel better...but it’s my duty to try!” With a sharp nod in Lucina’s direction, she takes off after Severa. “Leave it all to me, okay?”

Before she so much as has the time to nod in response, Cynthia is out of sight. She can’t be certain pressing the issue will help at all, but she just has to trust that Cynthia has more memory of Cordelia’s daughter than Lucina does. Still....

This isn't going to be the easiest to explain to the others.

* * *

“Are you out of your _mind_?”

Lucina has called all the already-found members of their team to a meeting, leaving Severa attended only by Gerome’s wyvern and one of the stragglers they’d picked up on their way to Ferox. Kjelle has a...clear stance on the matter, and it’s not like she’s strictly alone in that sense.

Laurent, who has been serving as their tactician for the time, adjusts his glasses. “While I’d word it differently...I also have my doubts about this course of action.”

“I didn’t just accept without thinking about it.” Lucina says firmly, locking eyes with Laurent. “I more than anyone am aware of the circumstance. But there are only nine of us. At this point...”

“It’s a game of numbers. You have a point - I can tell even from her posturing that she’s no newcomer to a sword,” he mutters. “But it would be worthless to us if she were to turn it on our backs.”

“Exactly!” Kjelle, still armored up, marches resolutely up to Lucina. “I respect you, I do, but this is insane.”

“ _You’re_ insane, you, you....you big jerk!” Cynthia shouts, hands balled tightly into fists. This could very well be the most harsh thing she’d said to anyone since the start of the apocalypse. “This is Sevvy we’re talking about! She’s my friend! She’s a Shepherd! She’s -”

“Dangerous.” Gerome intones, strolling up to the conversation. “But not immediately. If she came to us to be recruited, instead of simply attacking, then we’re clearly safe from any possible schemes until she’s gathered what information she’s looking for.”

Lucina pinches the bridge of her nose. Cynthia continues the argument. “You’re all being jerks! I _know_ her. If you won’t trust her with anything, then don’t tell me either, ‘cause I’ll run right to her with it!”

“That can be arranged.” Laurent says, unflinching.

From Lucina’s left, Brady speaks up, scratching his head. “H-hey, I’m just as nervous as the rest of you, really, but... ain’t it a bit heartless to kick her to the curb like that...? Even if her dad is Grima, her ma was Cordelia, and all...Maybe those two things cancel each other out?”

“Of course they do!” With an exaggerated pose, and an even more exaggerated volume, Owain agrees. “The bonds forged in our earliest youth, locked in bitter strife with the cursed blood of a betrayer! Now isn’t the time to turn away - we should be hailing her to our side, as when we were children!”

“...Translation, anyone?” Nah sighs, looking annoyed. “Listen, whatever we are or aren’t agreeing to do, it’s obvious we all have an opinion about this. It’s good to share them, but ultimately Severa either leaves, or stays.” She folds her arms. “I think we should accept Lucina’s judgement… for now. If there’s reason not to trust her, we’ll find it faster by living with her than arguing about things in the abstract.”

Lucina dips her head in grateful acknowledgement. “Thank you, Nah. I appreciate it.” Then, in turning to face the others, she holds her head high. “I don’t intend to send her away, but I’m not ignoring criticisms of my actions. As I said earlier, this is not a decision I made lightly. I will take full responsibility for anything that happens as a result of it.”

“That’s great and all,” Kjelle says, in the distinct voice of someone who does not think something is great at all, “But by that point it’ll be too late. Even without that, there are earlier hurdles. Where’s she going to _sleep_? Who’s going to watch her?”

Hm. Great questions.

* * *

“You really _are_ dumb if you’ve decided to bunk with me. You’re the general! If I turned out to be a backstabbing traitor, the army would be in disarray without you, you know.”

Despite Cynthia’s insistence, Lucina decided to share a tent with Severa, both as a show of trust for the other children and a precautionary measure. In her heart, she wants to trust her - but memory of her father and his own misplaced trust make her falter. So the two of them sit in a small tent, about as far from the other as they can get, and stare.

Lucina is a bit more patient than her father. She opts to ride out the insult. “You forget that in addition to being the general, I am the most capable fighter. If you managed to escape my notice _and_ best me in combat, the camp is doomed anyway.”

“And so humble, too.” Severa retorts, still intent on being snarky.

She might be more patient than Chrom, but it isn’t a high bar. Thinly veiled frustration begins to make itself known, and Lucina does her best to keep from glaring, herself. “You could stand to be a little more companionable, Severa. Unless you’d like to sleep in the woods after all?”

That takes the wind out of her sails a little. “Yeah, yeah....thin ice, whatever...”

The changes in tone always interest Lucina. She’s got to latch onto something, some reason not to hate the girl, even when just looking at her reminds her of _him_. “If you want us to trust you, why not act a little more nicely?”

“It’s not like it would _matter_ .” She says, and it sounds so straightforward, Lucina isn’t even sure she _can_ refute it. Severa looks out the open tent flap at the rest of the camp, tactfully positioned around a fire, further off from their shared tent. “If I show up and act nice, it’s all, ‘this is an act and she can’t be trusted!’ If I show up and I’m in a bad mood, it’s all, ‘she’s not even pretending to be on our side, why is she here?’”

Severa drops the tent flap, letting it fall back into place, and grouchily scoots yet further away from Lucina. “There’s nothing I could do to make everyone take me at my word, so why put in the effort being cheerful in the middle of a shithole like this?”

“I hadn’t realized you’d put that much thought into this.” Lucina replies simply. It’s all she can think to say, really. As much as she’d like to deny it; it’s the truth. Lucina would likely be even more suspicious if Severa wanted to be everyone’s friend.

Severa shrugs it off. “Yeah, well, that makes two of us. Can we continue this tomorrow? It’s been a long day.”

“I’m ready to go to bed when you are.”

She’s trying not to make it obvious, but she can tell by the way Severa turns away in her bedroll in a huff that she was too obvious about the fact that she’s going to stay up and keep watch.

It takes longer than expected for the other girl’s breathing to even out, and Lucina stands with a quiet sigh. “...Did I really make the right choice...?”

She could end it here. But then she thinks of Cynthia, and Cordelia, and Chrom - thinks of that little redheaded girl in the further reaches of her memory, lingering too-close behind Cordelia’s polished silver armor, shy and having to be goaded into play by Owain - and knows taking her life here isn’t possible.

Her father would have spared her, and while Lucina is not him, she isn’t willing to throw away the trust he gave others, now or ever. Severa will live - until she gives reason for Lucina to doubt that decision. She can't be sure of her motivations, not yet, but she wants them to be good.  __Becoming the sort of person that can't believe in others isn't befitting of a leader.

As Lucina settles herself in her own bedroll, she could have sworn she saw Severa crack an eye open. She closes hers, and drifts off into a restless sleep.

* * *

They round up another child of heroes - Noire has been cooped up in her house in the forest for months now, holding out with the desperate expectation that someday her parents would return to her. As ever, it’s up to Lucina to break the harsh news, because that’s what leaders do. They comfort and protect and don’t show a trace of fear themselves because if they do it’ll all be _over_ and everyone will fall apart -

She clamps down on that line of thought before it goes too far.

Noire is sullen her first few days at camp, but eventually she takes to following Severa around like a shadow. People talk, of course. The popular theory is that it’s because they’re both Plegian, and others suspect that both were in on some sort of treachery on account of Tharja’s legendary obsession with Severa’s father.

Lucina knows both of these rumors to be false, though. Perhaps the first one may play a part, but it’s more in Severa’s behavior. She’s seen her around Noire, when she thinks nobody _can_ see her - seen her give Noire extra rations, seen her walk the girl back to her tent when she got scared, seen her be kind.

Yes, there are rumors, but is it really so impossible to believe that Noire would cling to someone that takes care of her so? Impossible to believe Severa might be willing to treat someone kindly?

She waits for Severa to leave the other girl’s tent one afternoon and corners her by the training ring (a generous description of the dirt circle they keep cheap equipment next to). “Severa! Come here a moment. I wanted to talk to you about Noire.”

“Wanted to accuse me, you mean.” Severa replies with a grimace. “Look, just because we hang out-”

“It’s quite the opposite. I came to thank you for taking care of her.”

That’s clearly not what Severa expected to hear from her, because she has to do a double-take, has to think about it before trying to argue with someone who agreed with her. “You - what?”

Lucina gestures to the rest of the camp. “You spend a lot of time with her, and she’s very skittish. I’m glad you’re helping her adjust to camp life, and I’m sure she’s grateful for the companionship as well. Most of the others, myself included, didn’t know how to approach her, so I’m thanking you. I appreciate what you’re doing for her.” She explains.

“Oh.” Looking supremely uncomfortable all of a sudden, Severa averts her eyes. Is that a blush? “Well....cool. Good! Glad to see _someone_ appreciates my hard work!”

Despite it all, Lucina can’t help but smile a little. Such a response....well, she expected nothing less. “Of course. Now.... as long as you’re here, would you be up for a little sparring match? I haven’t seen you fight in much other than simple skirmishes yet, and I’ll admit to being curious.”

“Bring it on!” Easily accepting the challenge, Severa marches up to the training rack and pulls a wooden sword for Lucina to use, throwing it her way while she draws her own. Lucina catches the sword and removes the Falchion and its sheath, setting them on the ground outside the ring.

She readies the wooden blade and takes her stance in the center of the ring. “This will be a contact match. Would you prefer single contact or triple?”

“Triple.” Severa replies, also taking her ready position. “Are you ready for me, Exalt?”

Though she can’t be sure if it was just general trash talk or a deliberate attempt to get under her skin, the barb sticks. Lucina doesn’t appreciate the reminder of her technical title. “Advance at your own risk, Severa.”

The other girl blinks, seemingly cowed by the response she got, then readies herself and makes a charge. At first Lucina believes it will be simple to parry, but when she blocks the swing she’s surprised by the amount of force Severa is putting behind it.

She steps to the side, keeping her stance light, and strikes back at Severa’s exposed arm....only to be met with the wooden clacking of the swords. Severa forces Lucina’s swing back, and she retreats a short distance.

“You’re pretty light on your feet!” She whistles, seeing as Lucina has also retreated. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less from the head of the army, though.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“What, that you underestimated me?!” Severa scoffs, tossing her hair. “I haven’t even gotten _started_ , so watch me!”

Readying her sword once more, Lucina makes the initiating strike. Once again, Severa is ready to parry it, twisting her body so she can pull away and strike Lucina across the face on the rebound. She grimaces and gives up on her lunge, focusing on the defensive. Strike after strike bounces off her defence. Lucina ends up locking the both of them in a power struggle, each trying to force the other’s blade off them. “You’re stronger than you look.”

“You must be weaker than you look, then.” Severa grunts, putting more force into her push.

Lucina narrows her eyes.

“Trash talk is not a requirement in the ring, you know.” That being said, she won’t stand for insult. Lucina shoulders even more weight, then ducks to the side Severa hasn’t been leaning into - and strikes at her exposed side. “Contact.”

“Shit...” Grumbling, Severa gets to her feet, ignoring Lucina’s proffered hand. “I guess I got distracted.”

She withdraws her hand, placing it instead on her hip, where the familiar shape of the Falchion no longer sits. “Everyone can improve. You’ve no need to make excuses.”

“I’ll show you a damn excuse!” Severa suddenly sets upon her with a fury unlike what she’s displayed before, a sudden hail of blows, one after another, weaker than normal and yet flying at three times the speed. The sword comes recklessly, from each direction, and Severa lands one blow, then two - one on each side of her.

Severa looks as though she’s about to land a third, so Lucina hastily bats up with her own training blade, knocking Severa’s arm out of the way. They both retreat, now at a draw.

“Not to worry, miss perfect - ‘Everyone can improve’, right?” Reeking of overconfidence and sarcasm, Severa twirls her weapon, regardless of how her arm must be smarting right now from receiving a full-power blow. Lucina had initially made up her mind to apologize for it, but decides against it when she hears the gloating.

She flicks some hair out of her face. “I’ve seen that technique before, but I had no idea you could use it. That’s a Valmese technique, is it not?” A maneuver only the most highly trained swordmasters can use - one Lucina has scarcely seen even Inigo use successfully, despite his father Lon’qu arguably taking the technique to new heights.

“If you’re asking me to teach you, the answer is no.” Seemingly ignoring the match for a second, Severa crosses her arms, holding the flat of the sword between her arm and her side as she does. She looks away, something like a pout crossing her face, a concentrated expression in which she bites the inside of her cheek. “I picked it up from my father, so it’s basically tainted, right?”

“It’d be the first I heard of a taint so strong it ruined an entire sword technique.” Lucina remarks, intending the comment to be offhand. “I thought it was impressive.”

“Ugh, come _on_....with that kind of weakass answer, my father will kill you.”

It could just be the glare of the setting sun, but her eyes burn brighter than usual, calling to mind an uncomfortable facsimile of a Risen. “You want to _crush_ him, don’t you? Hit him with the big, glowing sword? Act like it! This isn’t a joke!” She snarls. “You shouldn’t be _impressed_ by his stupid skills, you should be studying them! Sparring against me will at least -” She catches herself here, like she’s noticed a contradiction somewhere.

Scowling, Severa draws her sword again. Although she has her weapon drawn, she looks significantly less hostile than she had the moment prior, now bearing a grin. “Oh, I get it now....complimenting me to lower my guard, huh? I won’t fall for it again!”

She lunges, and Lucina decides to show off some fancy footwork of her own, if not to end the match faster so she might satisfy her raging curiosity. At least...? At least _what_? And that aggression was unparalleled.....

Lucina lunges at the same time as Severa, although it feels almost as if she’s gliding. Her sword brushes past the other girl’s side; the thrill of invoking the aether seems to make Lucina forget her own pains. She makes rough, but not damaging, contact with Severa’s back as she’s behind her. “And, three.”

“Ugh.” Sounding disgruntled, Severa begrudgingly dips her head to Lucina. “Fine, you got me that round. I won’t let you get off so easy tomorrow, though!”

“Is this to become a routine?” Curiously, Lucina follows Severa to the weapon storage, after picking up the Falchion and her sheath. She notes that Severa gives her a rather wide berth once the items in question have been re-equipped.

Severa hums, off-note. “ _Duh_. I can’t end on a losing note!”

An answer like that seems appropriately like _her_ , something Lucina normally wouldn’t bat an eye at, or would at least tolerate with a sense of vague amusement normally reserved for the mothers of unruly children - but she’s still stuck on that conversation in the ring.

“What do you think I have to gain from our sparring sessions?” The question flies from her mouth before she has time to think about the numerous ways it could be interpreted, and Severa stops cold in her tracks, turning a once again hostile eye upon her.

“Are you calling me _weak_?” Although she’s shorter, Severa positions herself so as to be right in front of Lucina’s face, dragging her head down to level with her own by the shoulders.

Lucina stumbles. “That’s not - that’s not how I intended it to sound. I only meant to ask about what you said earlier.” She scratches at her suddenly warm neck. “Obviously sparring with another talented fighter only benefits me, no matter who they are....”

There’s a sudden loss of pressure on her shoulders, and Lucina is released back onto her feet. “Good. I’m glad even you can’t be _that_ dense.” With a sigh, Severa brushes past Lucina. “I’m tired, so don’t wake me up when you come blundering into the tent at midnight, okay?”

“Okay.” She finds herself saying, if only for the sake of saying _something_. She’s still wildly confused. Did Severa just.....decide to act like Lucina hadn’t asked a question at all? That’s pretty childish...

Troubled, Lucina straightens out her own training gear in the storage bin, mind wandering.

What did she mean, ‘this isn’t a joke’? Lucina, of all people, knows that. Better than anyone in the encampment. And all of that hostility over a compliment! Honestly.... All Severa even told her about the technique was that -

“She learned it....from her father.....” Lucina mumbles. The missing piece finally clicks.

Severa....does she intend to be used as a training dummy for him?

Hesitant, Lucina finds her eyes following the white-haired girl as she walks back to the tent, laden with uncertainty.

* * *

As promised, they do commit to the sparring matches most days after that, barring the days they’re on the march or find themselves accosted by Risen from all angles. Lucina is trying to get them to Mount Prisim, now, to follow up on a rumor that the Voice of the divine dragon is waiting there for them. It’s the only hope she has.

The Valmese sword technique proves not to be the only thing Severa has under her belt. Like Cynthia, she knows the famed reinvigoration maneuver of the pegasus knights, and like Noire she can dole out each scrap of pain she’s been dealt and turn it back upon her attacker. To be frank, Severa has more practical combat knowledge than Lucina expected for a mercenary that’d had hardly any time to work.

It’s not so surprising that the victories in these matches are traded back and forth between the two of them, despite Lucina’s seeming upper hand on the first day. Others will occasionally come by for the spectacle of it all, generally cheering Lucina on. Noire remains faithfully in Severa’s corner, though, and her usually meek demeanor melts away when she gets Really into it. Lucina never took her as one for sports, but she’s glad her timid comrade is finally enjoying something so raucously!

Cynthia never knows who to cheer for, so she takes turns, and Inigo seems determined to compliment them both as well - although not for any of their swordplay.

Today, Lucina walks away with the victory, and once night falls she meets with Severa in the tent again.

...Or so she’d intended. Lucina is moments away from announcing her intentions when she notices that Severa is hunched over herself near her bedroll, muttering and cursing. Her cuirass is off; she isn’t wearing the mercenary’s armor she’s quite literally slept in for the short months Lucina has known her. Unsure of what she’s observing, Lucina stays her tongue and remains by the tent flap.

“...Shit....” Severa draws a rasping breath, still concentrated on whatever it is she’s got over there. Could it be a tome? A broken item?

It’s not sabotage, most likely, since Severa is on her own side of the tent and not, for example, casting an itching hex on Lucina’s bedroll, so she determines now is a good time to reveal herself. Lucina steps into the tent. “Is everything alright?”

Severa seems apt to jump out of her skin. “H-hey! Don’t just appear out of nowhere like that!” Though her posture immediately stiffens, and she turns her head, Severa doesn’t turn her body toward the other girl.

Lucina tries to step around, unsubtly craning her neck, and Severa turns and curls in more so she can’t see whatever it is. “I didn’t appear out of nowhere, I’ve been in the doorway. I heard your muttering and decided to investigate.”

“Y-yeah, well it has nothing to do with you, so butt out, would you?” Severa says in a scathing voice, finally standing upright. She’s doing her best, but Lucina can see immediately why she’d been in her previous position.

“You’re hurt.” With a tight frown, Lucina steps toward her. Severa backs away further. “We sparred not two hours ago. You don’t mean to tell me you were fighting with an injury? Reopening a wound like that -”

“I know what I’m doing!” Severa snaps. “Gawds, stop trying to act like - like my damn mother! I’m a member of this army! If I didn’t think it was bad enough to report, then that was my decision, wasn’t it?”

Her expression tightens into a firm line. “You’re coming to the medic’s tent with me now.”

Still defiant, Severa looks Lucina in the eye. “We don’t have the supplies to burn for a crummy injury like this. I’m not going.”

“Are you aware my father suffered injury to his stomach, years before his death?” Lucina says suddenly, a challenge.

Caught off-guard, Severa looks lost, all defiance changed out for utter confusion. “Am I - what?”

“An assassin targeted him on the same night his eldest sister was murdered. He rushed right into the fight, bleeding from his middle, and tried to claw his way to her chambers with the sword. Emmeryn already lay dead, but in his reckless attempts to get there, he tore his injury open so wide he never properly wielded a sword again.” An image of the scar that cut across his chest and abdomen, vivid and pink-red even after years of healing and medical staves, appears in Lucina’s mind. The memento of the strike that crippled her father for life, dealt by some low life whose name was never known to history.

If he had been able to fight at full capacity, would he yet live? Would it be his duty to lead his own army to perform the rites of awakening? Had he trusted in others a little less, would he have been prepared to fend off a betrayal?

It keeps her awake at night.

Severa is quiet for a while. “So what,” She protests, a bit more weakly. “So what if that happened to him? That has nothing to do with me. If anything all it proves is -”

“My father is dead. I don’t want to see a single one of my friends join him. Not if there’s something I can do about it. As of right now, we have staves. I don’t care if we need them later. One can be spared for your injury.” Lucina extends her hand. “Come on. Stop being stubborn and let Brady help you.”

It takes a minute, but Severa begrudgingly does end up following her out of the tent, although she swats Lucina’s hand away. “You’re so dramatic about everything. It’s basically nothing, so I’m only coming to make _you_ feel better.”

Another standoffish response like that, huh...? Lucina thinks she’s getting a little too used to this. Lowering her head nearly into her scarf, she smiles, deploying her own tactics. “I appreciate that you’d go to such lengths to put my mind at ease.”

“Don’t  - don’t expect me to do this often!” Severa’s face is flushed as red as her eyes, positively crimson in the camplight. She treats eye contact as though it were the second great Plague.

They arrive at the medic’s tent in short order, not that they have a particularly large camp to attend to. Luckily it seems that Brady is among the staff and not the patients for today, so he quickly spots them and directs them into a corner not far from the entrance. “I’ll be! It’s miss never-gets-a-scratch, aint it? Not so indestructible after all?”

“Shut up, perv. Maybe I’d spontaneously develop more injuries if the medic’s department spontaneously stopped asking me to take my clothes off every time I came in here!”

While the comment might affect the rest of the army, Brady clenches his jaw. “How many times do I hafta tell you it’s the stinkin’ procedure to take your armor off? I’m not so good I can cure a wound I can’t freakin _see_ , you slanderous little she-devil.”

Severa makes a noise not unlike a huff and quite literally turns her nose up at him. It makes Lucina realize just how friendly Severa is inside the tent compared to outside of it. She sighs. “Brady, don’t let her get to you. You know Severa is just saying it because she’s in a bad mood.” Lucina elects to ignore the sputtering protests behind her. “She really is hurt.”

“ ‘Don’t let it get to me’ my arse!” Also protesting, Brady paraphrases her. “My maw would kill me if she heard someone started a rumor that I’m some leering creep! Come right back down from heaven and pull me up by the ear!”

Another huff. “See? This is just wasting our time.” Severa grumbles.

Lucina sighs again. “Severa, just cooperate with him. It’s not as if he needs you to remove your smallclothes, too. I’ll even stay in the tent with you, if only for peace of mind.”

Severa eyes Brady, resigned to his task, and the clean bedroll, lying in wait for a patient, warily. “I feel fine.”

“ _Severa_.” Lucina says, insistently.

The girl grits her teeth. “Fine! I’ll take my stupid shirt off so the stupid priest can see the stupid injury. Gawds!” With jerky, impulsive movement, especially for one suffering an injury to the abdomen, Severa tugs her shirt off and sits down cross legged on the mat.

As predicted, there’s a wound, the barely-scabbed impression of long, raking nails, undoubtedly from Risen. The wound cracks and breaks at some points, through which it bleeds a little - their last skirmish was three days ago, which means she’s been hanging onto it since then and it only reopened when Lucina made contact with it on accident while they were sparring.

But what’s more than the injury, there are scales. Severa’s skin is already darker than theirs, considering her Plegian heritage, but the scales are pitch - unmistakable black patches against the skin, spread out thinly as if someone had tripped and spilled them on her. They cluster around the shoulders and the column of her spine.

“Are you going to keep gawking, or are you going to knock your two remaining brain cells back together and heal my _stupid_ injury already?” Bitterly, Severa focuses on glaring a hole into her own hands while Brady sputters something about being ‘on it’ and holds a mending staff out in front of himself, chanting softly to himself.

Nobody else says anything, and once the wound has mended itself save for what seems a trivial scratch in comparison, like that of a raccoon as opposed to a man-sized zombie, Severa snatches her shirt up off the floor and throws it back on before storming out of the tent.

Lucina smiles apologetically at Brady. “Sorry for the trouble. And, if it’s not too much to ask...could you, maybe...” She’s at a loss for words. She probably can’t guarantee his silence even if she asks it of him, and maybe this could even point to something the rest of the camp _deserves_ to know, but -

“I gotcha, captain. As far as I care, I’ve never seen a girl with her top off in my life, remember? My ma is watching! Heck, so is dad, most likely!” Brady gestures to the upper part of the tent as though he could see them through it.

She lets out a soft laugh. “Thank you, Brady.”

He nods, and Lucina sets after Severa. She’s in the tent again, now with her mercenary’s armor securely back in place, and she seems to have expected Lucina to come in at some point with questions, because she’s already looking at the tent flap when she does. “I’m not talking about it.”

“Neither is Brady. You stormed off before you could ask him to keep a secret, so I did it for you.” Lucina crosses through the tent and sits down beside her, draping one arm lazily over her knee.

Severa chews on her lip, sparing a clipped glance in Lucina’s direction. “...Oh. I knew that.”

For a while, Lucina is thinking she might have to be the one that breaches the silence, but Severa speaks up again. “...I’m pretty sure it’s because my dad is getting stronger. I’ve been noticing more of them the closer we get to Mount Prism, so....just, in case, y’know....move everyone around carefully. It might not be as protected as you thought.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” She says, earnestly. It is kind of touching to know Severa wants them to stay safe....contrary to her own behavior. But Lucina’s mind still wanders. “Would this be why you avoided the medic’s tent up until now?”

“Yeah, basically.” Severa huffs, blowing her bangs out of her face. “Selflessly asking you not to waste your resources on me sounded a lot better than ‘I’m slowly being changed by an elder god, who also happens to be my father, surprise! Let me stay in your camp, promise I won’t betray you, thanks’. “

“I won’t be worried about betrayal as long as your scathing wit remains intact.” Lucina remarks dryly. “In the meantime, I don’t want you trying to tough out your injuries when we’re out of salve. If you’re worried, we can just have Brady come to our tent.” Feeling a bit bold, Lucina takes Severa’s hand, closing her own around it with a firm squeeze.

She expects her to pull away or say something about being corny or a mother hen - but she doesn’t. She expects her to respond at all - but she doesn’t.

Severa just sits, looking curiously down at their joined hands, and squeezes Lucina’s back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeets chapter 2 in here
> 
> this is the one with my fave scene in it! its at the very end and also this chapter is like 9000 words. have fun lmao

Severa’s hunch about Mount Prism proves correct, and the survivors find themselves fighting off more Risen than normal as they work their way up the mountain, the path beyond them left littered in the re-slain undead. 

Lucina and Severa together make for a terror on the battlefield. Considering they know each others’ fighting styles so well, it’s no surprise, either. Severa cuts through another, approaching Lucina with some degree of urgency. “Cynthia and Inigo said they saw the Voice not far up the mountain. It looks like she locked herself in the temple somehow, but it’s not going to last long.”

“Understood. Can you cover me?” She gestures to the mess behind her, then up the hill. “Progress will be a lot faster if I can focus on something other than the horde at my back.”

Severa shakes her head, averting her eyes pointedly. “I probably shouldn’t.” She says, like an admission of something. “If this dragon lady gets a whiff of me from outside, she might not let us in, heh. I can keep them busy down here. You get the rest of them up to the top, okay?”

She narrows her eyes. “Can I not leave someone here with you?” Whatever this is, Lucina has a bad feeling about it...as it stands, nobody has had to make a ‘last stand’, and she’d rather not start now. 

“I can take care of myself, gawds! Quit fussing over me, you aren’t my mother. I’ll be right here waiting when you get the stupid ritual working, you can count on it.”

Lucina is still reluctant, but time is of the essence. She’ll admit it’d be faster to keep her momentum going up the hill than to break her offensive team in half sending people out to protect Severa. Still.... 

She reaches into her satchel and pulls out an elixir, down to two uses. Desperate times, desperate measures - Lucina hands it off to Severa. “I mean it when I ask you to stay safe.”

“Y-yeah.” Severa takes it with a look of extreme unease. “I will. Thanks.”

Lately, it feels like just the act of being nice to Severa makes her grow suddenly distracted and flighty. Lucina hasn’t a clue what it all means, but if she’s appreciative, then she should be glad their friendship has finally solidified so deeply. She departs with a sharp nod, leaving Severa to her own devices - at least for now. 

Lucina prays the Voice of the Divine Dragon doesn’t take too long to round up, for Severa’s sake and for the sake of Lucina’s own nerves. 

* * *

Severa watches Lucina take off up the mountain, Falchion gleaming in her hand, and wonders if she’s playing with fire. “That idiot....” She grumbles, securing the elixir in her own stash, where she  _ most certainly will not use it _ . What was she thinking, just giving out a valuable medical supply like this for a mission that isn’t even that dangerous?! If Lucina keeps using her resources so flippantly, she’ll be really screwed later....

Grunting, Severa brings her sword down onto the head of an unfortunate, lurking Risen. Ambush, her ass. That itch on her spine wouldn’t go away...they were waiting here for sure. Even if they weren’t, the thing she saw on her way up the mountain doesn’t leave much doubt. 

A single leaf in the road, upturned in a way she’d seen a million times before. After directing her allies around the pitfall trap, Severa conspired to slip away from them. As difficult to believe as it might have been, she knew a sign when she saw it. 

While she rather enjoys using the Risen as training dummies, they don’t make any moves to attack her back as she walks down the mountain path. Severa makes sure to kill as many as she can anyway. 

“Se- _ eev _ ! Undead armies don’t just grow on trees, you know!” Even if she was prepared for it, the familiar voice sends a shiver down her spine. She forces her eyes shut. If she looks, and it’s not what she thinks it is.....if she looks, and she’s not all there...

Could she bear the disappointment?

“They pop out of the ground just fine, don’t they?” She grumbles back, still refusing to face the other girl head-on. 

“Come onn...what’s with the cold shoulder?” Her voice is just beside her now, a careful hand on her shoulder. Morgan leans into Severa in just the way she used to, when she’d wrap her arms around Severa’s and ask her things, look up at her with those big brown eyes.

She can’t look. “Please, Sev...”

Morgan’s voice is faint, and she can hear it waver, dancing on the edge of cracking.”...don’t you love me anymore?”

“So much I can’t stand it sometimes.”

“Can’t you at least talk to me?” Severa takes a deep breath, and forces her eyes open. 

Nothing changed - Morgan is the same Morgan, from the rich red hair to the big brown eyes and an ill-fitting coat, courtesy of her terrible fashion sense. Severa could cry. She wraps her younger sister in a hug instead. “I’ve missed you. I really missed you, you brat! Why didn’t you come sooner!?”

Morgan hugs her back, burying her face in Severa’s shoulder. “There wasn’t a good time....you’ve been surrounded all the time since we split up. But, listen - I....I talked to Dad! He’s still there!”

Severa forces herself to push away from Morgan. Something like panic swells up, from the very pit of her chest. 

The situation at hand - she can’t be an  _ idiot _ , since obviously Morgan is with the Risen, which means she’s with their father - but, maybe she can change her mind. She isn’t dead - she’s not a Risen, Severa would be able to tell if she was. Maybe she can intervene. She’ll just tell Lucina she found her here, passed out, nobody would know she was working with the Risen, nobody would know she was working with Grima. Maybe Morgan could even help them. Maybe. 

She has to try it. “No, he’s not. You  _ know _ he’s not. That’s....something else. Dad is dead.”

“Dad is  _ not _ dead!” Morgan clenches her fists so tightly it’s like she’s going to split apart at the seams. “I  _ talked _ to him! He said he’d keep us all together, even if you don’t have the brand like me!” 

She holds fast to Severa’s arm, nails digging into the leather bracers, and braces her head against Severa’s neck so hard she can feel the hot tears on her skin. “He’s been trying to reach out to you, you just aren’t  _ listening _ ....” She begs. 

“The  _ world _ is  _ ending _ because of him! Morgan, how can you just  _ accept _ that?!” Shoving her aside by the head, Severa forces Morgan’s teary eyes back up to her own. “Snap  _ out _ of it! People are dying!” 

‘ _ Reach out to her _ ’......bullshit! Severa could scream. Using her stupid cursed blood to do  _ this _ shit to her, to harden and warp her skin at his leisure, even if he can’t get in her head with the brand like Morgan-

....gods, and she almost  _ fell _ for it too. Morgan sounded so real. But whatever became of her, it can’t be different from the fate that befell their father - one god, two vessels. 

It’s easier to believe that’s what happened to her than to think she’s really just deluded herself into thinking the apocalypse isn’t bad.

Severa feels sick. “Get out of here before the others come back. And tell Grima we’re coming for him.”

“He can bring Mom back,” Morgan tries weakly, still clinging loosely to Severa’s arm. She tightens her grip when Severa tries to jerk it away. “I kn-know she wouldn’t talk anymore but....Severa,  _ please _ ....I just want to go back to the way things were...even if it’s just the four of us, we...”

“ **_GO!_ ** ” Severa roars, pulling her sword. The threat is enough; the not-Morgan gives her a sorry look and vanishes with a warp spell. 

Her heart is racing a mile a minute. Severa sits beside the tree and curls up, feeling the beginnings of a migraine. Her skin sears against the places the scales have grown, and she can’t shake the feeling that this must be punishment, somehow. Shoot down the recruitment pitch from her possessed sister, get cursed a little harder in retaliation. 

Fate is one sick joke, isn’t it...?

She’s not sure how long she sits like that, but eventually the sound of racing footsteps focuses her attention back on her surroundings. “Severa!” Lucina shouts. The footsteps increase in speed. “Severa, are you alright?!”

Severa lifts her head, then one arm, and gives her a thumbs-up. She can see Lucina a few meters away, slowing to a jog as opposed to a sprint. She looks so  _ relieved _ \- what business does she have being so happy to see her?

What business does Severa have being so happy to see Lucina happy to see her?

Maybe she inherited a curse from her mother, too, she thinks bitterly. A curse that makes her covet smiles and kind words from Lucina more than anyone else. 

Lucina catches up finally, hardly winded from the long road down. “Severa,” She says, still a bit too relieved. “I saw you against the tree and feared the worst. I suppose you were taking advantage of our lucky break - the Risen seem to have dropped off in numbers.” 

“We didn’t make that big of a dent,” She says, shaking her head.They’re regrouping. Get the Voice and let’s ditch this place; it’s lost to us.” Getting to her feet, Severa hastily palms the elixir back into Lucina’s confused hands. 

“What? This is a holy place, we can’t just -” She turns Lucina around, gesturing to the growing mass of Risen at the base of the mountain. “Oh.” She says. Lucina looks to another woman, one Severa hasn’t seen but can’t possibly more obviously be the Voice of the Divine Dragon - for answers. 

For a dragon god’s daughter and a millenia old dragon herself, she looks  _ really damn tired _ . The Voice blinks wearily around them, then down to the crowd of monsters below. “...She is right. Mount Prism will be lost to us soon no matter how we struggle.”

“But -!” Lucina protests, and Severa cuts her off, roughly shoving into her with her shoulder. 

“Look around you,” She hisses. “Do you see an army? If we stay behind, even if we save the mountain, someone is going to get overwhelmed.”

Better to be honest about their losses than try to rally around the mountain and get people killed. 

Lucina seems to see the wisdom in that advice, too, because she sounds the retreat, nodding once and marching off ahead, gloomy as ever. Severa watches her go, pretending to have her eyes on something else, and Tiki ambles up to her. 

Part of her is scared. How could she not be? Tiki is  _ Naga’s daughter _ , and apparently millenias-old herself, so who’s to say what she could figure out about Severa at a glance? Even surrounded the way they are, her demeanor is almost leisurely. The tiara glints forebodingly atop her head. 

They stare at each other for a while, perhaps sizing each other up. 

Tiki hums, quietly. “You’re not unlike me.” She muses. “I’m impressed with how well you get on with the others. You must be truly good friends.”

“Who said anything about being friends?” Severa grumbles, over the pounding relief in her chest that Tiki didn’t have anything else to say - and stomps off in a huff after Lucina. 

Maybe Lucina trusts her, and Noire and Cynthia could be considered friends, but she sure as hell can’t count anyone else on her side.

“How lonely...” Tiki sighs, her voice carrying no matter how much distance Severa tries to put on.

She clenches her fists tightly. 

* * *

“A frown doesn’t suit a beautiful girl like yourself, you know. Why, I can’t say I’ve seen a smile on your face once!” Inigo leans over her by the campfire, light flickering off his mercenary’s shoulder guard. She’s not sure how exactly he manages to do it without resting his hand on anything, but damn if he didn’t. “Is there any chance at all you can spare one for me?”

Severa pretends to think about it. “No.”

“Please! I must know! Such beauty isn’t meant to be left unseen!” He insists, in that same cajoling tone. He clasps his hands together - ten points for dramatics, but it still doesn’t sway her. 

Standing, she runs the cloth she’s been using to polish her sword across her weapon one last time, sheathes it, and faces Inigo once more. “Get used to disappointment.”

“Truly, your scorn only makes the heart grow fonder… All the more reward, then, shall I find a smile from you!” 

“Where do you even  _ get _ these lines?” Severa groans. “You’d think the apocalypse  _ and _ our impending doom would do a little for your maturity!”

He shrugs, with a broad roll of his shoulders. “Consider the alternative - would you rather I spout doom and gloom, like Gerome?” Both of them seem to pause to look at the wyvern rider in question, who irritably returns the gaze before skulking off with his meal somewhere. He’s always been disdainful of Inigo, and never quite trusted Severa, so that type of reaction is to be expected. 

Severa rolls her eyes. Inigo just gets right back into it. 

“When all of this is said and done… it’d be a tragedy if we’ve all forgotten how to smile by then.” It almost sounds sincere, and Severa feels a bit stirred by the reasoning, but then, as ever, Inigo decides to open his mouth again. “So, for the sake of beautiful women everywhere, I will protect our smiles!”

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Well...good luck with that. I’m taking a bath, so if you’ll excuse me...”

That does well enough to fluster him - Inigo’s face flushes red, and he nods in a hurry. “R-right! Good evening...”

Severa sighs and makes way for the stream they’re camped out beside, knowing they’ve long since ran out of soap, and hastily strips and gets in, looking around all the while. 

It’s only gotten worse since Mount Prism. Thick dorsal scales run the length of her spine, hard and chafing against her armor, and her nails have hardened into something a little beyond human at this point. There’s a persistent, aching pressure in her head, two spots where something hard lies just barely beneath the skin, and she knows it won’t stay beneath for long.

As hard as she tries, it might be time to give up the goat, as it were - this is irreversible and highly noticeable. Caution and inattentive teammates have saved her so far, but in the future...?

Vanity won’t get her anywhere, and she can’t lie to herself anymore, either. The worst of it is out of sight for  _ now _ , but scales near her hands or neck will be a dead giveaway when it gets that far.

“Severa! Are you out here?”

Lucina’s voice practically sends her diving out of the water, hastily throwing her clothes back on even though she knows she’ll probably get hypothermia or pneumonia or  _ something _ from sleeping with wet clothes clinging to her, but it’s better than being interrupted in the bath.

Lucina comes around the bend and Severa shoots her a very annoyed look. “ _ What _ is so important it couldn’t wait for the damn tent? You know people  _ bathe _ here, right?!”

The look Lucina gives her, verging on dumbfounded, makes Severa think she doesn’t. Still, the exalt soon blushes and looks away. “It...occurred to me. But I had to come right away! Lady Tiki wanted to speak with you.”

“What could that old hag want with  _ me _ ?” Severa asks, utterly unimpressed. She’ll admit her word choice is a little harsh - for a 2000 year old woman, Tiki looks and acts pretty far from it - but in all honesty she’s been wary of the Divine Voice since they picked her up. 

How could she not be? As the daughter of Grima’s physical manifestation, they’re enemies, or at least supposed to be. Anything Tiki has to say, she doesn’t want to hear - not if it’s something about how similar they are again. Not if it’s to urge her to reconsider her actions. 

Unfortunately Lucina has other plans. “Severa...” She chides. “Please try to be a little more respectful than that. I won’t force you to see her a second time, but in all honesty I think a thousand years is enough time to pick up some good advice. Perhaps she really will have something interesting to say - please hear her out just this once.”

Severa huffs. It’s not like she can really put up a good argument against that... “...Fine, but only today, okay?”

Lucina nods. “Of course.” 

And so, Severa finds herself in the “old hag’s” tent. She sits down as neatly as she can on the mat rolled out in front of Tiki’s perch, a pile of spare clothes and deerskin from what few deer were left in the ruinous continent. So much for modesty… Severa is steaming soon enough, only growing more irate as Tiki seems to be, for all intents and purposes, asleep, when she’s the one that called Severa here in the first stinking place!

Lucina had left some time ago, so Severa shifts a bit in her place and considers the merits of leaving, saying the advice was bad, and going back to avoiding The Voice outright. Just as she’s about to stand to do so, Tiki speaks. 

“I was waiting for you to calm down, Severa.” She almost sounds amused. “I thought it unwise to talk with busy minds. Have you ever tried meditating?”

“No.” Severa says, flatly. “I don’t have time for this.”

“So harsh,” Tiki sighs. “You remind me of someone I used to know. Impatient and always going off on your own… I think you two would get along terribly.” She muses.

“If you think we’d get along terribly, why bring it up at all?!”

Honestly....she’s going to have a conniption. Even Tiki looks a little put-out, biting her lip. “I suppose I was just making conversation. Are you truly that eager to leave my presence?”

Severa sighs, folding her arms. “Basically, yes. I don’t want to come in here and hear trite garbage about how similar we are, because we’re not. Some relation to dragons aside, you’re Naga’s daughter. You can turn into a dragon. Not to mention everyone loves you!” This is said in an accusatory tone. “My dad was only  _ possessed _ by a dragon - he’s not actually Grima. And I’m about as well-liked as a drowned rat. So  _ excuse me _ for not wanting to be chummy with you, okay?!” 

Tiki closes her eyes. “Your words are harsh, but understandable. I was hoping I could reassure you, but I see now that may be harder than I planned.”

“What did you even think I needed reassuring for in the first place?” Severa tries to spin it off as more pushing, an attempt to steer Tiki away, but inside she’s curious - has she looked in need of something? Stressed? She’d have thought she wasn’t so transparent about any of her problems that some near-stranger she avoids religiously wouldn’t have been able to pick up on them, but if that’s not the case, then....what do all the others see? 

What do they think of her, since it will surely be reflected by Tiki?

“You had a rather accurate guess about the ‘trite garbage’ I had planned.” Tiki admits dryly, stretching her back out from where she sits, “I also thought it wise to mention it doesn’t feel like Grima has sway over your mind, even if the same can’t be said for the body.”

Stiffening, Severa feels her fingers curl in, a self-conscious reaction, half attempt to hide her fingers and half attempt to feel more solid. “How did you know about that...?”

“I know what to look for, that’s all. I confided in Lucina that you may need some assistance, but she informed me she was already aware.” Tiki seems to beckon Severa over with a hand, and even as determined as she’d been to blow off this whole conversation, Severa finds herself shuffling up to the woman. 

Damn...! How’d she get past her guard so quickly?! Severa feels an indignant blush well up, and Tiki holds a hand out. “May I look at your hands for a moment? I noticed you moving them out of view.”

Hesitantly, Severa follows this instruction as well. Geez, this probably looks really stupid. Just standing around awkwardly while Tiki does.... _ whatever _ she does, running her thumbs over the knuckles of Severa’s hand like that. Although, Severa notes, Tiki’s skin is also pretty rough. That means it probably is a dragon thing. 

“Hmm.....”

“Just ‘Hmm’?! Can’t you give me some advice yet?!” Severa huffs, although she resists the urge to pull her hand away. 

Tiki gives it back to her anyway, withdrawing her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Well, it’s not  _ dis _ similar to a manakete’s issues, way back when...many children have problems maintaining their humanity at first. However, you also aren’t a manakete. You do not have the potential to use a dragonstone as I do, nor undergo a total transformation. This means Grima cannot go too much further, but as his power increases....”

“The weird crap he can do increases, too.” Severa completes with a frustrated sigh. “Isn’t there something...?” Grimacing, she imagines what might await her - they’re leagues away from killing Grima and she knows it. The more people he destroys, the more despair he reaps, the more powerful he will become. Morgan only has a fraction of his power, and even she would be a formidable opponent at this stage. 

They’re stuck in a perpetual stalemate: not yet strong enough to overcome Grima, but he grows stronger and stronger with each second they spend trying to train. It would take a thousand miracles just to get them on even footing, let alone in a position with anything more than  _ half _ a chance at winning, with heavy losses. 

It’s just...not...fair...!

Severa forces the thick feeling in her throat back down, trying to still her temper and the tears that threaten to spill out. She won’t get anything by acting like a child - she can’t afford to do things like make careless mistakes in front of others. 

There’s a soft pull at her shoulders, and Severa finds she’s been tugged to rest upon Tiki, the older woman adjusting an arm around her. “You don’t need to put on such a tough face. You have plenty of people here to help you.”

It’d be so easy to pretend she could do that - even now she can’t shake the feeling that she’ll close her eyes and find herself being bounced on her mother’s knee again, drift to sleep and wake up thinking just for a moment that she’s 13 and exhausted from training with her parents and Cordelia is the one she’s resting against. 

She breaks away from Tiki’s hold, as much as the older woman tries to keep it. “Thanks, but no thanks. I know when I’m wasting someone’s time. I can figure this out myself.”

Severa storms off to the sound of sighing. It was nice of her to try - but if the Voice of the Divine Dragon doesn’t have a solution for her, Severa will just have to think outside the box before this problem overtakes her - she doesn’t have the time to lay around and feel sorry for herself. 

...Although she might have the time to beat the hay out of a few training dummies to vent her frustrations. She’ll start with the ones further away from camp, and if she has to, try a spot of hunting.

* * *

Lucina hadn’t precisely been snooping or intending to remain in the area whilst Tiki and Severa had their conversation, but she wasn’t quite far enough to miss the way the latter stormed off in a huff. She takes a moment to consider her options: confront Severa, making a beeline for the training grounds, or confront Tiki. Or, of course, she could simply leave her nose out of it...

But, she resolves shortly after, it’s the wellbeing of a friend and comrade that she risks ignorance about. Respectfully, it must be far better to pry now than pay the price later. 

She approaches Tiki’s tent. 

“Lady Tiki? I noted Severa’s sudden exit. I trust she did not say anything to offend you terribly?” Lucina’s entrance is courteous and to the point; she bows in front of Tiki once out of respect, but her focus is clearly on the incident. 

“It would be hard to get a rise out of me like this.” Tiki sighs. “No, I am just saddened. You and your company are only children. Seeing the pressure heaped upon you pains me. How have you fared up to this point?”

“It is an uphill battle,” Lucina agrees, doing her best to straighten her posture, lay her hand in the proper fashion above the Falchion, invoke her command presence - “But we are up to the task. Working in tandem allows us to surpass our limitations.”

Tiki shakes her head. “Such a calculated answer... very well. I understand that I cannot fulfill the role I wish to at this time...but I will try my best to act according with my mother’s will, and to guide you with as firm a hand as I may.” Her eyes flutter shut. “I will continue to rest for now, but...I implore you to keep a close eye on your friend.”

“Is there something the matter with her?”

Lucina’s heart feels fit to leap out of her chest, pounding with an urgency she hadn’t thought possible. Keep a close eye on her? That could mean so many things. Is she alright? Or does Tiki suspect that Severa might -

Something ugly and painful twists in her gut. 

That...could never be allowed to happen.  _ Severa _ would never allow that to happen, so-

“Calm down, Lucina...I only meant to be prepared to lend a hand. She won’t accept it from me.”

Part of her feels childish for reacting so strongly, but the only other thing she feels is relief. “I am always prepared to do as much, for any allies. I ask that you accept the same treatment yourself. If you are ever wanting for something, no matter what it may be, please let me know so I may see it done.”

Tiki yawns. “You’re still much too blunt...but I suppose some more time to rest would not hurt me. Would the group be burdened terribly if we remained here for a few extra days?”

Considering they just abandoned the holy ground and need to find a new place to perform the Awakening, Lucina’s mostly certain they can’t lose any more progress by staying put for a short while, if only to pick a course. She nods curtly. “We can stay here for a handful of extra days. It shouldn’t be long enough to make us vulnerable.”

“That’s....” Another yawn, “Splendid. I will be here if anyone needs me.”

Tiki seems content to doze off effective immediately, so Lucina sees herself out of her tent and resigns herself to being throttled in her nightly sparring match with the very-frustrated Severa. Perhaps allowing her to win now might bolster her mood before they discuss things...in any case, she must act accordingly. 

Lucina must have run over the mental script with herself a dozen times before she approaches the training ring that evening. 

Start off as they always do, that’s the trick. She’s found a sense of normalcy is always best before consoling someone, and any way she can make herself out to be more of a constant is also prefered... She makes sure there’s not a belt or pauldron out of place with her uniform, considers conscripting Cynthia and Noire to help but scratches the idea off just as fast - too many people, it would look too obviously like an intervention. 

She just needs to ask what Lady Tiki wanted to talk about and offer her help. Severa will certainly be contrary, but Lucina knows well enough how to navigate her by now. The greeting is already on her lips when she strides up to the arena -

Only Severa isn’t there. 

That’s enough to stump her, at least for now, but a few of the people who usually watch their skirmishes seem confused as well. 

_ Perhaps I was early. I ought to wait before my nerves best me _ . Lucina reasons, taking a deep breath and setting the Falchion down where she always puts it, twirling a practice sword in hand instead. So she waits - but after several minutes pass, she determines that Severa isn’t going to arrive as soon as she’d hoped. 

“Excuse me. I’m going to go look for her,” Lucina says softly, dismissing herself from the others. “I think we’ll rest tonight.”

Kjelle and Cynthia both seem a bit disappointed there won’t be an “epic clash” tonight, albeit likely for different reasons, but nod understandingly and disperse, much the same as Inigo and Owain do. 

Noire stays behind. Of course, Lucina hadn’t exactly ordered everyone to leave the training ring, but the archer lingers in a way she’s slowly gotten more familiar with - she wants to tell her something, but doesn’t want to be the one that approaches. Although her mind is elsewhere, Lucina puts on a kind front and goes to to her. “Noire, is something troubling you? You look like you have something to say.”

“A-ah! How did you....well, that does make this easier...” she mumbles to herself, fidgeting with the bow she hasn’t let go of in some time. “But then...oh, I don’t know...”

Clearing her throat, Lucina does her level best not to interrupt too harshly. “I’m always happy to lend an ear, but I’m afraid I can’t help if I don’t know what’s bothering you.”

“I AM DEEPLY EMOTIONALLY CONFLICTED!” Noire bellows, stamping her foot and tightening her grip on her bow so much it’s as though the wood might splinter in her hands. Such brazen honesty... That’s unlike Noire, but she’s glad she’s finding ways to become less timid. The sudden outburst ends, and Noire sinks back into a slouch. “....I’m sorry for yelling the way I did.” A long pause. “...I’ve decided it’s best you know, though.”

Lucina nods, once, urging her to go on. 

Noire takes a deep breath. “I...saw Severa leave the camp with a stranger. I was coming to ask her for help making tonight’s stew, but I...I noticed the stranger had a Grimleal coat on...” she tears up. “I d-don’t...I don’t want anyone to jump to conclusions! Severa is our friend…She’s our friend! But she hasn’t come back yet, and she might be hu-urt, or w-w- _ worse _ ,” Noire chokes back a sob. 

“She left camp with one of the Grimleal?” Lucina repeats urgently. It feels as though the ground has up and vanished. This can’t be real. She went willingly? There was one so near their camp? 

The mere existence of a human Grimleal is enough to set her on edge. All of the low-ranking ones sacrificed themselves to Grima, and Grima works with extraordinarily few living humans. Any Grimleal that still live can’t be any less than a commanding officer, if not a high priest of some sort. Whoever this someone may be, it’s trouble. Serious trouble. “You don’t think she...” Lucina starts, dread pooling at her stomach. 

“NO!” Noire furiously swings her bow at Lucina’s arm, catching her off guard. The wooden bow leaves a sore spot in its wake. “Severa is our  _ friend _ !”

Lucina pauses to steady herself. 

It’s true that Severa has had every opportunity to wipe them out from the inside, as she’d said before. If she wanted them dead, she was taking the long way around. She’d even been left unsupervised in a tent with the daughter of Naga; anyone under the influence of Grima would be irresistibly driven to try to kill her, and prevent the Awakening from being performed. 

This is the hope that she can hold on to - this is, if need be, the lie she can tell herself to keep from dealing with unpleasant thoughts and feelings of possible betrayal.  She hates how quickly she was able to assume - to  _ believe - _ that Severa might have betrayed them. So she stays her hand. “..You’re right, Noire. Severa is our friend and ally. I will - I  _ must - _ believe she had a good reason to leave. Did you see which way she went?”

Noire eyes her cautiously, still wary and teary-eyed and a little bit angry, but as resigned as anything else. She points off toward the forest, past the stream they’ve been bathing in. “I’m coming too.”

Lucina stills. “Can you keep up with me, as you are? I want you to be honest with me. You fainted just earlier today from the strain of moving some boxes. If you collapse while I search for Severa, I will have to double back...”

Noire chews her lip. “And that’s time we don’t have.”

A short nod. Lucina is already anxious to get searching. To get answers. But she won’t leave Noire high and dry. “This is your choice, but I think it would be best if you ask Cynthia to ready her pegasus and follow suit after me. If we’re lucky, they only went as far as a clearing nearby.”

Noire seems to steel herself. “We’ll be there as fast as you are. Go quickly, captain.” 

She nods and sets off, hot on Severa’s tail. 

* * *

Moving in silence, it’s enough of a task to try and hunt Severa down to keep her mind occupied. Lucina searches every inch she can while trying to be thorough, looking for any signs that people had come through. There aren’t many, but the occasional hacked underbrush or cracked twigs at least give her a sense of direction. She makes her way into a clearing, but finds it empty- or, she thought it was empty.

“I thought I heard someone coming. Didn’t think it’d be you, though!” The cheerful voice comes from out of sight, setting Lucina searching for its source. None becomes readily apparent, until a shorter girl with crimson hair appears, coat emblazoned in the purple patterns of a Plegian tactician. She cocks her head cheerfully. “Woah, you even came without a weapon? I must be having some sort of lucky break... You guys seriously need a tactician.”

“Unarmed?” Lucina repeats, voice cool. “You’re mistaken.” She draws her blade from its sheath...

Only to realize she’s still holding the bronze training sword. The Falchion is -

Lucina feels panic swell in her chest. The Falchion is in camp, unattended, while she sits here waving a stick at a high level member of the grimleal army. 

But she can’t let it show on her face. If she lets this person know, then she’s finished as surely as if she had no weapon at all. It may not be much for cutting, but it could still be a blunt instrument. Noire and Cynthia are on their way. She might not die here....

The stranger’s smile drops to a thin line, a tight but not obvious frown. “You’re really going to fight, even with that?”

“I must.” It’s a simple reply. 

“Bummer. I was hoping I could do this a bit more nicely...” Almost wearily, the tactician raises her arm, the other holding a tome close to her chest. Lucina can recognize the waste spell at a distance and knows it’s nothing pretty. Many people come home mangled from lucky hits of the damned things...

But she has to hit her with it first. 

Lucina settles her jaw, bracing in case she is hit, and raises her sword. No point pretending a battle won’t take place while she’s at the disadvantage - she may as well press the attack and hope to take this girl off-guard. 

Her sword whizzes past, snagging at the black fabric of the stranger’s coat, but not hitting anything solid. While she’s exposed, a bolt of dark magic slams into Lucina from the side - not more than a glancing blow, but enough to let her know this is a powerful mage. 

_ Damn...! _ Lucina will likely have to land a dozen blows to take her down, but three or four serious hits from a tome like that, and she’s...

“Hey, hope isn’t totally lost, right?” Magic sparks past Lucina’s head, blasting into a tree instead. The residual sparks make the wood rot. “You don’t have the Falchion on you, so dad’s going to be pissed, but that means your cousin could probably pick it up. Until Grima kills him, too.”

The girl frowns at her own bluntness, like she only just realized she'd said something impolite. “But, at least he'd, y'know, keep the flame alive and all that. He’s got as good a chance as you do now.”

She doesn’t even want to acknowledge the concept with a reply. If she’s defeated here, if Owain has to take up the blade in her stead....to claim so brazenly that she would kill her cousin - !

Hold on a moment. This girl referred to someone as her dad, but who would...

Severa tears out from the woods like a bat from hell, practically diving onto the Grimleal, who, for all her tact, didn’t appear to see it coming. The two scramble on the ground for a bit until Severa shoves the other girl’s head back with her hand, palm against the girl’s forehead, and snatches the book away. She throws it hard at the ground beside Lucina. 

“ _ Heyy!” _ The grimleal whines. “I looked hard to find that!”

Roughly stepping away from the other girl, Severa dusts off her pants and finds her way to Lucina’s side, although she won’t meet her eyes when she gets there. “You really walked all the way out here without the Falchion? You  _ are _ an idiot.”

Lucina swallows. “I was worried about you.”

Severa doesn’t quite respond to that. “...get out of here, Morgan.”

Morgan grumbles all the way along as she gets to her feet. “And leave a defenseless Exalt behind? You’re crazy! Dad would have my hide!” Saying this, she readies dark magic once more - not from any tome this time, either. Something sickening and unnatural dances erratically around her palm. If Lucina squints, it almost seems to have thorns that occasionally pierce through. 

“She’s not defenseless.” Taking a more firm stance, Severa readies her sword - a real one, one of the nicer ones they’d salvaged. Silver, sharpened to a point. She’s positioned herself between the two earlier combatants. 

“S-Sev...” Her eyes have gone wide, pupils trembling. There’s something  _ wrong _ about them, too, though it’s difficult to see. Tears well up. “Y-you wouldn’t, right? ”

Severa doesn’t budge an inch, other than to widen her stance a little. Although she’s not a mage, her resistance isn’t a joke - she should be perfectly able to shrug off a spell or two should it come to that.  “I will.”

Lucina finally shoves off the ground and gets to her feet as well, matching the stance with her own bronze sword raised. Even if it’s only to cover Severa, with Lucina’s involvement their odds are much better.

After some hesitation, Morgan puts out her magic. The pulsing, purple light is snuffed out like a candle. “Okay. Okay...” her voice cracks. “I’ll go home.”

Even as Morgan hurries off, Severa remains stubbornly mute. She stays where she’s been standing for what feels like minutes, even though it can’t have been that long. Lucina vies for her attention soon enough. “Severa, was that - ?”

There’s no reaction just yet. Lucina notices that Severa’s sword  _ is _ moving, a bit imperceptibly, but upon a closer look it becomes clearer. Her hands are shaking. Lucina slows down, approaching the way one might approach a stray dog. “Severa...”

When she tries to place an arm around her, the spell breaks. Turning with a sudden, wild fury, Severa shouts and lashes out at a tree not far from them, swinging her sword so hard it scrapes against the tree like a plow on rocks - leaving an ugly mark as she lets the sword fall from her hands. 

Then she just cries. Severa curls into Lucina and cries, harder than Lucina can recall having seen anyone cry. She’d practically be screaming if it weren’t muffled by her overcoat. 

Lucina’s not sure what to do but hold on. Her surprise at Severa’s outburst could only be matched by the suddenness with which it ended - she holds her breath almost involuntarily, half as though she expects on some level that Severa will abruptly stop crying and lash out like a copperhead that’s been cornered in the bushes. 

She doesn’t know what Severa might be thinking. All she  _ can _ know is that she’s upset, and needs a shoulder to cry on. 

“It’s not fair.” She mutters into Lucina’s uniform, voice thick. “It’s not… I...”

They don’t have the time for much else, since Cynthia bursts into the clearing roaring something about evildoers meeting their end while Noire clings desperately to her back in hopes of avoiding a painful collision with - well, anything. 

Severa shoves away from Lucina and wipes her eyes, forcing her breathing to be level. “...let’s talk when we get back,” she rasps, still a bit out-of-breath. Lucina is to understand they shouldn’t discuss much with Noire or Cynthia, though both are very happy to see Severa in one piece. 

“You’re okay~! Noire and I made a rescue party and came as quick as we could, but then there were some branches, and we got mixed around, and my pegasus didn’t want to go too high so we were on the ground but you know horses are a little better suited to being on the ground than pegasi, so -” Cynthia cuts herself off with a sheepish laugh. “I guess you didn’t need a daring rescue after all. Lucina beat us to it, huh?”

“Hardly.” Severa scoffs. “Next time our ‘daring’ leader comes rushing after someone like a lost hound, make sure she’s got her magic sword with her, okay?”

Cynthia’s eyes go wide as saucers. “You. Left. _ The Falchion _ ?!?!”

Lucina feels she’s going to combust. “...I had taken it off my belt in preparation for my sparring match with Severa....and Noire told me she’d seen her going into the forest with a stranger....I got so caught up in my worries that I never noticed I had not put it back in its sheath.” With each sentence, she feels more and more foolish. 

Even Noire seems astounded. “I...didn’t notice either,” she murmurs. “I should be ashamed. Some archer’s eye....”

With a dramatic sigh, Severa puts her head in her hand. “Listen, the important thing is that we make sure we’re ready to fight before we go anywhere.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure the  _ actually _ important thing is that everyone’s okay! I dunno what you were doing out here, but going out to meet the enemy alone is dangerous! Even if it’s super cool, and heroic, and romantic...wait, where was I going? This sounds awesome!” Cynthia clutches her lance to her chest in a swoon. “A moonlit duel with a fated nemesis...walking pace-for-pace only to turn at the third step and strike! A dance in the dark! The howling trial of the night!”

“Hopeless...” Severa grumbles. “I saw -” A pause; Lucina thinks she sees Severa look pained - “An acquaintance, we talked, I sent her packing. End of conversation, end of mystery. Can’t we go back to camp? None of us have eaten yet, you know.”

Cynthia nods, mellowing at the curt tone Severa uses with her. “Riiight.... I don’t think all four of us should be on my pegasus at once, though. She’s tough, but...”

Lucina shakes her head. “We push her hard enough. Noire should stay on for her health, but Severa and I sustained no injuries - we can walk as we return.”

“You sure we can’t jog a bit? I wasn’t kidding when I said I was hungry.” Severa gripes. 

Lucina turns to look at her, mouth upturned in a lopsided grin. “...In lieu of a sparring match, perhaps we might race home?”

Severa meets her eyes, challenging. “What makes you think you’ll win?”

“What makes you think I won’t?”

Her eyes narrow. “Okay, you’re on.”

* * *

She must do a poor job of hiding her curiosity, because Severa doesn’t waste much time dropping the news when the two of them finally make it back into the tent after trying to find some sort of explanation for the rest of their caravan as to why they were late to dinner (in Noire’s case, why she abandoned cooking duty entirely) and where they’d gone. Fortunately it didn’t tie them up too badly, and even Cynthia seemed willingly tight-lipped about it.

Severa pulls her boots off and thumps onto the bedroll she’d been using since she got here, slapping the one beside her as she adjusted her mercenary’s gear. Her silver sword lies unceremoniously by her boots. “The girl you saw is my younger sister, Morgan. She’s in service to Grima - in other words, that thing that wears my father’s skin has convinced her Robin isn’t dead.”

It almost startles her, how cut-and-dry she is about the whole thing. Then again, this is Severa she’s speaking with. She’s always one to surprise. Lucina sits where Severa indicated she wanted her and removes her own boots, laying the Falchion - she’d retrieved it when she got back - on her other side. She swallows. “Pardon my prying, but Robin....”

“Gh-!” Severa suddenly winces sharply, clenching her jaw as she doubles over. 

“Severa?!” Lucina is at her side immediately. 

She grits her teeth. “Just… give me... a second...” Blood slicks down from her forehead. A head injury?! Lucina’s breath catches in her throat. How did it not bleed until now...? How did she miss it if it did? How did - Severa brings her hand up to the source, then higher, and parts her hair around something. 

The smallest black bump, like a rock had gotten embedded in her skull somehow. The blood is coming from that, but she can see it’s not actually that much - her fear of head trauma simply supplied that it must be bleeding a lot. Severa rubs at the site, then wipes her hands off on her shirt. “I had to wash this anyway,” She grumbles, closing her fist around the fabric. 

Lucina bites her lip. “Do you know what just....” She trails off.

“Yeah.” She brings a hand moodily to the beginnings of horns, then closes her eyes. “Tiki said it’s limited by Grima’s influence, so run-ins with Morgan, when she’s working directly under him...”

“Speed this up.” Lucina concludes, frowning. “Have you been noticing more scales lately?”

Severa laughs harshly. “Just scales? It’s practically gods-damned plate mail on my back. And the other day I had to use a whetstone to cut my nails.” Grimacing, she looks away. “Just my luck something like this would happen now, though...”

She sighs, so deeply it’s like she released all the air in her chest with one breath, and looks warily back to Lucina. The red of her eyes seems more pronounced. “You were asking about my father though, right? I guess as long as it’s come up, I can answer a question or two… It’s only fair, since you did try to help me out.”

Think carefully. After that display - after everything relating to Severa’s family today - Lucina knows exactly how sore a spot she treads on, and she knows the price of even a small misstep could be shattering Severa’s trust completely.

“Are you sure..?” She asks, letting the question hang. “I would understand if...”

“I  _ said, _ you can ask your dumb questions!” Severa snaps. “Don’t you dare try to coddle me, you got that?”

How does she ask? How does she put it? The Plegian tactician who became Grima’s host, but had previously been her father’s - been  _ Chrom’s _ \- best and most loyal friend. The man who would later become his murderer. 

Lucina swallows again. “Your father....was he possessed before, or after he killed mine?”

“...I don’t know.” Severa looks moodily to Lucina’s side, where the Falchion rests. “Growing up it was always Uncle Chrom this, Uncle Chrom that..... They were like brothers, from what I knew. And my mom was even worse. Lord Chrom, Exalt Chrom, whatever - Chrom, Chrom, Chrom. Morgan loved him too. I guess I probably did when I was a kid. He seems like he was that sort of guy, right? All the kissing babies and overzealous presents. You must have had it real nice growing up, and not just ‘cause you’re the princess.” A bitter note slips into her voice. 

It’s so hard to hear this from Severa, of all people. Lucina sets her jaw. “I suppose he was, and I suppose I did. Father was a great man.”

Severa continues like Lucina hadn’t interjected, only nodding her head a bit in response. “Neither of my parents ever would have murdered him. He was practically the only thing they cared about. But - he had the Fire Emblem, you know?”

“The Fire Emblem?” Lucina asks, brow furrowed. “What does that have to do with this? Did he want the power to grant wishes?” A murder of self-interest, then. But what does this have to do with Grima?

“No.” Gritting the word out like it’s painful for her, Severa takes a while to complete her thought. It’s hell to wait, but the tension is so thick Lucina feels like if she interrupts Severa will lose the will to speak on the matter entirely. “...Grima used the Emblem for the Awakening rites in Plegia. And...Ch-Chrom wouldn’t have used it to wake up Grima, right?”

Glassy red eyes meet Lucina’s blue. “I don’t know why, but for some gods-forsaken reason.... _ any _ gods-forsaken reason....my dad killed Chrom. Without Grima. To, to  _ become  _ Grima. I don’t know - how could he  _ do that to us?! _ ” 

The outburst, far from shattering the tense atmosphere, only makes it worse and worse. Severa digs her nails into her palms. “He would always drop  _ everything  _ to be at the castle w-with  _ your _ family, and I’m just supposed to believe it was some kind of  _ plot _ ?”

She slams her fist against the ground. “What does that make Mom, Morgan and I?! Props? Cover so he didn’t look suspicious? Is my entire  _ life _ part of a fucking scam?” Severa chokes back a sob. 

Blood seeps out from the palms of her hand, and when it drips to the ground, steady and quiet, the dirt absorbs it hungrily. For want of rain, the soil has become cracked and sandy, but blood falls upon it in spades.

Lucina should...do something. Severa is sitting in front of her, heart open, wracked with whole-body tension, curling up in any way a person can, so tightly wound she’s bleeding from it. She’s waiting for some kind of answer, recognition of the information she has at last given to Lucina. She’s waiting for a retort. 

She’s waiting for judgement. 

The story is simultaneously what she wanted to believe and what she feared hearing the most. Lucina wanted to think the story was simple, and there had been no doubt as to what happened - that Robin, the man, had killed Chrom, and so her hate would not be misdirected at someone who’d simply had the misfortune of being possessed. And in that sense it was true. 

But to hear about a murder in cold blood, to be faced with the idea that one could be both a decent father and a murderer, is too much to comprehend. If he posed as an ally for over a decade only to turn and destroy Chrom at his peak, of his own will, what other kind of treachery can exist in this world? Who  _ can _ she trust? 

Does telling her all this mean Severa  _ can _ be trusted? Or is she a fool repeating the mistakes of her father?

How could she possibly know what to do in this situation? How can Severa expect her to?

Severa just keeps staring at her expectantly, another set of eyes waiting for Lucina’s strong front to crack. She grits her teeth and doesn’t say anything. She has to be fair. She has to be cautious. She has to  _ say something _ .

She’s so wrapped up in her own head, the knot of obligations and feelings tied around the response she can’t seem to think of that when Severa speaks, it’s jarring.

“Trying to figure out if I’m going to stab you in the back too?” She asks, and even though her voice sounds hurt, she’s practically sneering at Lucina, eyes crinkled up in distaste, lip curled, flashing teeth like a hunting dog might. “Don’t bother.” 

What does  _ that _ mean? “Severa, I -” 

“I said  _ don’t bother _ !” Severa snaps, shooting up from her bedroll and glaring down at her with accusation in her eyes. “If you have to take that long to think it over, then you never trusted me in the first place, did you?” She snatches her sword off the ground, blood smearing the silver hilt as she adjusts her grip and sheathes it. 

“That’s not true!” Lucina cries, standing up as well. Impulsively, she reaches out to grab her, finding purchase around her arm. Severa squirms and struggles to get away, and she lets go. “Severa, where are you going?”

Severa crams a foot into one of her boots. “Away.”

Trying to still her breathing (when did she get so worked up?) Lucina presses her. “Where?”

“What do you care?! I’m just going to  _ betray you _ anyway, right? Why should you give a shit if I go get myself killed?” She fumbles to pull her other boot on. “Just stop pretending you care and let me go...”

“I’m not pretending!” Lucina says sharply, jerking Severa back around to face her. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t think I’m gonna be evil too!” Severa pulls Lucina in closer to herself until they’re almost nose-to-nose, holding her by the front of her cuirass with a strong grip. “Tell me you think I’m  _ any _ different from him!”

Severa’s eyes are red and luminescent, narrowed, hurt. Lucina can see the places near her shoulders, just barely out of sight, where her skin is darker, patchier. Feels the pinch of something sharp where she’s grabbing her. There’s probably blood on her shirt now. “You can’t, right?” Severa asks, and it’s then that something has to give. 

Enough deliberation. Her mind clearly won’t spit out an answer, but she knows Severa isn’t evil, even if she can’t say why. 

What is she, really, rather than evil? Severa is a prickly, abrasive mercenary. The daughter of a mass murderer and possible vessel for the Fell Dragon. Quick-witted and reluctantly patient. Prideful and sarcastic to a fault. 

She’s also, much more simply, a girl who makes her heart race. 

Lucina breaks Severa’s grip only to close the distance between them, tilting her head and pulling insistently at her shoulder to encourage reciprocation. 

She kisses her, even if it’s a little clumsy, or unexpected, even if Severa accidentally bites Lucina’s lip when she realizes what’s happening. Lucina pulls at first, and eventually Severa begins to lean. 

Perhaps the bite was no accident after all. Although Lucina initiated, it’s Severa who pushes harder, and Lucina staggers back a step as Severa’s hands shoot up, her right hand tracing up the nape of her neck and through her hair to - Lucina lets loose a soft whine as Severa bites her lip again, wrapping her own arm yet tighter around the other girl’s back. 

She’s nearing the point where she’ll need to breathe soon, but breaking the kiss feels like a shame. Lucina puts her hand at the back of Severa’s head and pushes it in closer instead, running her fingers through her hair and likely ruining the carefully tied-up twintails in the process. Severa, in turn, makes use of her free hand to dig into Lucina’s side with her nails. 

The two finally pull away. Lucina breathes lightly, in bursts. “Was that -” pause for breath, “Proof enough?”

Now it’s Severa’s turn to bite her own lip (Lucina suddenly becomes acutely aware of the iron taste in her mouth and wonders just how hard she’d bitten hers) as she seems to give the Exalt a once-over. “...One more time, just to be sure.”

“Certainly.” A lilting grin crosses her face. For once, a request that won’t bring her grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: 1. lucisev..........  
> 2\. sry if morgan seems off, she hasnt gotten the memo that patricide is in. idk how to write her if not cheerful because i rly dont get the grim opponent vibe from her u feel??

**Author's Note:**

> *plugs wildflowers again* [A Really Good Use Of Your Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13840305)


End file.
